Obscurum Cado
by Vanoty
Summary: AU:Harry is the twin brother of the Boy-Who-Lived, Evan. Everyone thought he was a useless squib who could barely speak, the truth; however, is far more shocking. "No wizard should ever be able to bring back the dead." Powerful!Harry LM/HP, DM/HP
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I repeatedly sent J.K Rowling documents which would sign over all rights of the Harry Potter series to me, but for some reason...she hasn't answered back. I wonder why that is?

**Summary:** Lucius Malfoy discovers a neglected and verbally-stunted boy, thought to be a squib, with power far greater than he has ever known. In hopes of one day controlling him, he begins molding him into the Dark Lord's Heir.

**Pairings:** Lucius/Harry, Draco/Harry

**Warnings:** Slash, ExtremelyPowerful!Grey!Harry, Veela!Lucius, incest(James/Harry), Manipulative!Dumbledore, possible non-con, and chan.

/Parseltongue/

Obscurum Cado

Silvery-yellow wings beat fiercely against the soft wind in failing attempts to stay airborne. Lucius cursed mentally for letting himself, a Malfoy, drop his guard for even a moment and allow that filthy mongrel of an animal get its claws on him.

He searched desperately for a secluded area in which he could transform back from his Animagus, but could find none as the horrifically small street was bustling with some sort of celebration. All he needed was a small alley where he could change and Apparate back to the Manor, Merlin-forbid he be caught anywhere near these dreadful plebeians, but the bloody lot was making it difficult for him to see—let alone pass through.

He felt his form steadily falling, but his Malfoy pride would not let himself be taken down by some stray, so he forcefully pushed his body up once more. Not only was he a highly influential political figure as well as the head of the most well-known pure-blooded Wizarding family in Europe; he was a Death Eater for Merlin's sake!

_Malfoys __**do not **__fall down._

And what in the world was wrong with the hindering group of blood-traitors and Mudbloods blocking his passage! Who parades around half-drunk in the middle of the street past midnight? They looked like a horde of Neanderthals with the way they jumped around and made noise like it was nobody's business. He would never understand peasants.

Lucius was starting to feel harder than ever the heavy aftermath of being nearly eaten alive. His body was beginning to feel irrepressibly weak, the edges of his vision fading away slowly. He felt himself swaying in the dark of the night as the moon shone unrelentingly upon his fragile body.

He should have never left the Manor in the first place. Never should have lost control as if under his so favored Imperius Curse and answered the first pulls of that which ended up ultimately killing the fool of a man that called himself 'Father.'

How weak was he that he could not resist the primitive temptation that cursed his bloodline? Was he to become mad while trying to fight against the Call like his father, needing over thirty-some wizards to just barely restrain him? Was he to bare his teeth and snarl like some kind of animal while his son looked at him, disgusted, as he once did?

He would have given a scoff if he could have. The notion was absolutely absurd at best.

Such as was dying by the claws of some mangy tabby!

Just as he felt, without ever willingly admitting it, himself dropping to the ground—a laughable little cottage filled his fading vision. It was completely deserted and was obscured mostly by a tree. Had it been any other situation, he would have never laid foot in some blood-traitors appalling yard. But he was a Slytherin. And _as a_ Slytherin, he put his own well-being before anything else.

So, he let himself glide over the small gates and into the grass covered enclosure. He landed on his belly beneath the masking leaves of the large yew tree and just lay there. The Animagus could feel himself panting heavily, his wings spread out, when the most relaxing sensation draped over him. He felt his wounds closing, his crushed bones mending and connecting, while his breathing and heart-rate came back to normal.

Aside from the healing, he suddenly felt like everything was just right in the world. As if his impossibly dreary and tedious life was nothing but a passing thought. As if he was just..._being_—existing.

Every fiber, mineral, _the entirety _of everything that is him; was vibrating in some kind of relief he didn't quite understand. It felt as though a large blinder he hadn't realized he was wrapped in was suddenly yanked away.

It was such an intoxicating feeling that he let himself bask in it without thinking. Let all guards drop as the small bits of light from the full moon penetrating the leaves above him shimmered along the length of his glossy feathers.

"Oh—Pretty Birdie!" a delighted voice said softly.

At once, Lucius jumped up ready to bite anything that moved, his mercury-silver eyes coming upon a small form bathed in moonlight. He became painfully aware of his heart hammering against his chest and the blood rushing to his ears as he felt some sort of bizarre epiphany shine upon him. Lucius didn't know what the sudden feeling of absolute clarity meant, so he chose to simply ignore it. Instead, he made himself appear as threatening as he could in his current state and watched for any unwanted movement.

The bespectacled, nearly glowing-green eyes looked amused as they stared at him in his place, untamed waves of long raven hair falling over them. Lucius wondered what it meant when the thoughtful look suddenly appeared on the boy's gentle face. He didn't have to wait long to find out because soon, the pale boy clapped once abruptly and looked at him in an excited manner.

The world came to a crashing halt when the wretched child uttered a few simple words. "No Pretty Birdie. Pretty Man!"

His mind rushed with what the implications meant, and while he would never admit it to anyone, it frightened him. No grown wizard, much less some scrawny, and to his utter horror and disgust—emaciated looking child, should ever be able to see through an Animagus. It was unheard of! Not even his Lord was capable of such a thing.

What the boy said next just about ruined him. "Pretty Man like Harry!"

He can't be serious. He couldn't possibly mean–

The usually unfazed Malfoy stilled. The small boy's form shrunk and his face morphed into a snout. His ears moved to the top of his head while his arms and legs became fluffy paws of white, silken fur. No. This couldn't be happening. This had to be a trick. This just wasn't bloody happening!

But evidence of the Animagus transformation was clearly there and when all was done, a breathtaking arctic fox with glowing green eyes sat comfortably before him. Clothing that had already been far too large and billowing on his previous form pooled around the small, snow-white kit.

The little Animagus yipped several times, something akin to giggles, as it danced around Lucius'ss smaller form merrily.

And he ran—or flew, ignoring the strange tugging at the base of his skull when the disappointed yips sent his way reached him.

The head of Malfoy felt repulsed at his own cowardice, but at least he knew when to run. He was a Slytherin through and through.

* * *

Slamming another dusty book shut, Lucius sat back against his cushioned chair and ran a shaking hand over his bound hair. He stayed like that for a few moments before pushing off to pour himself a glass of Cognac. He took a sip from the alcoholic drink in hopes of alleviating the pounding headache that just wouldn't leave him alone.

If he wasn't sure before, he was absolutely certain now. The boy wasn't normal. In fact, he was such a special case, he could be rightfully called the first person his age to ever achieve a full Animagus transformation. It frightened him to think about how old exactly the child had been when he first perfected the uncommon ability.

Above that, he had been able to see through his own canary Animagus, reminding him once more of what it could possibly mean. He knew that his Lord had been a magical prodigy during his own childhood, but seeing it first-hand coming from another...made his hair stand on its ends. It was ridiculous, he knew, but he couldn't stop himself from feeling strangely excited at the implications.

On the other hand, it could be that, that is all the child could in fact do, regardless of its peculiarity. Now that he thought about it reasonably like he should have from the beginning, that was most likely the case. He was sure of it.

Another thing that had been bothering him greatly was the state the child was in. He had looked awfully malnourished and tired, dark circles that appeared like years old bruises circling under his eyes. His Muggle-styled clothes were torn as if moths had gotten to them and if Lucius's memory served correct, he hadn't even been wearing shoes. He knew that he was a cruel and cold man considering, but he certainly did not condone to the abuse of any child; including Muggles and Mudbloods.

He sighed while untying the black bow out of his hair in one quick motion, hoping that its release would ease the steadily growing pain in his skull.

But no matter, he currently had other things he was to agonize about, like preparing for his Draco's first year at Hogwarts. He still stood by his belief that his son would do well in Durmstrang, but it made his life much easier to simply appease Narcissa in her demands.

Taking one last look at the books that had been strewn about his desk during his vicious frenzy, he left his study and joined his wife in their bedchambers—his dreams being consumed by laughing, glittering-green eyes.

* * *

Nose in the air, Lucius looked around disdainfully at the appalling amount of Muggles surrounding him, both hands clutching the head of his cane. His pale lip rose in disgust when a little worm of a girl stopped to stare at the aristocrat in wonder before being pushed away by her scolding mother who dared not meet his belittling gaze.

Draco was at his side, seemingly as composed and statuesque as he was, but the Malfoy Head was well aware of his son's spontaneous nervous twitches; something that simply would not do. He rose a gloved hand to the boy's shoulder, pleased with the way his heir immediately straightened out without the need for words or arduous assurances.

That was the way of the Malfoy; cold and direct. There was no need for frivolous little poetry or useless communication to justify failure. If they were to stay at the top, they had to show all those beneath them exactly why. The unblemished Malfoy image was to remain as such at all times.

"Father, _must _I go to that repugnant school filled with bloody magic thieves and traitors?" Draco finally let out with an indignant huff.

Lucius found himself agreeing mentally, but chastised nonetheless. "Language, Draco." he said in a soft, peremptory tone. "I was once a student at Hogwarts as well. I have no doubt that you will continue to repute our family name by being Sorted into Slytherin House and staying at the top of your class."

"Of course, Father." Draco puffed up.

"Bear in mind, Draco, there is absolutely no room for..._**inadequacy**_ in our clan." Lucius warned.

"I understand." The Malfoy Heir became serious. His silver eyes met his father's freezing gaze with a startling sharpness that could rival a Seer. It was disturbing seeing such clearness in the eyes of a child not twelve years old, but it was fit for the person who would one day take his rightful place as an accomplished leader. Lucius reveled in it.

Their tense moment scalding with inconspicuous threats was broken when obnoxious laughter filled King's Cross Station. Lucius glanced disapprovingly at the immediately distinct family of redheads before his cat-like gaze landed on an equally familiar set of messy hair.

"—run right into that wall! There's just no way, Dad!"

A flash of recognition. Was that–

"Don't worry poppet, you'll just go right through. Here. Percy honey! Would you kindly demonstrate for our dear Evan?"

"Yes, Mum-"

Lucius rushed over to the loud group and yanked the younger Potter's arm up, forcing the boy to face him. He could feel the anxious adrenaline burning within every inch of his being, his eyes searching for what he did not know. He knew he was acting like everything he was against, but he couldn't find it in himself to care at the moment.

When questioning hazel eyes looked up at him, everything he had been feeling drained away in an instant.

He blinked several more times before promptly letting go of the stilled arm.

Lucius didn't know what had possessed him to approach Potter's spawn in such a manner. The whole situation did; however, leave him feeling like something was terribly off. While the eyes and maybe hair length were different, they generally looked the same. Did the blood-traitor have another?

While studying the one who defeated his Lord in scrutiny, he realized that they actually weren't very much alike. Not at all. This boy standing before him, this base thing looking at him with pretentious, dull eyes—was nothing more than a cheap imitation of that lonely child he met on that moon-filled night.

This boy exuded an air of reprehensible arrogance and unwarranted authority. He looked at Lucius expectantly as if he was to fall to the floor and kiss the very ground he walked on. He could now see that the illustrious Boy-Who-Lived, was nothing but slimy filth.

"Malfoy! What in bloody's name did you think you were doing to my son?" James Potter flushed to his ears while his body trembled in barely kept anger. "Decided you'd do your 'Lord' a favor and get rid of Evan for him, did you?"

"Father?" his Draco questioned softly, glaring at the younger Potter. It must have startled him to get a glimpse of his father in where he wasn't the perfect sculpture of everything that was Malfoy, but regret is for those who felt they'd made a mistake. Malfoys don't make mistakes.

Ignoring his son, Lucius revealed from his robe pocket a black handkerchief with the House of Malfoy family crest embroidered onto the corner. "Mighty accusations there, Potter." came his slow drawl, his current task of ridding himself of any impurities he may have contracted when he came into contact with Evan seemingly more important. "Ever been sued for slander?" He paused.

Maybe, he could use this...minor discontent to his advantage.

He dropped the now 'dirty' handkerchief to ground in front of him and stepped over it, coming closer to enraged pure-blood. The corner of his lips quirked up into a smirk. "How about for the negligence of a magical child?"

A look of honest confusion came over James's face, and for a moment, Lucius cursed the fact that he may have been wrong.

"Harry?"

Lucius rose an eyebrow in question.

"My twin brother." Evan elaborated, only sparing a quick glace at Lucius.

The older Malfoy gave his son a warning glare when he looked ready to make a snide comment, immediately causing the boy clamp his mouth shut.

It would explain the resemblance, however 'vague' it may be, though he couldn't help but wonder why he wasn't ever made aware of this new piece of information. And he couldn't see this Harry anywhere. Why wasn't he present?

"Dad, is he talking about Harry?" The boy's brows were knitted together as he stared thoughtfully at his father. "What does negligence mean?"

James gave a start before looking accusingly at Lucius. "How do you know about Harry?" James paused. "And what do you mean 'magical child?' Harry is nothing but a wort–a squib. Always has been."

"It's true." Molly Weasley added hurriedly. "The child doesn't have a pint of magic in him!"

He was shaking. How dare these blood-traitors even begin to insinuate his inability to discern a wizard from a squib! It insulted him deeply not only because he took it personally, but for the child as well. He felt pity at the boy for being bred into the world by such a dim-witted cretin who obviously didn't value him at all.

The man was a complete mockery of the House of Potter, known as being one of most ancient of bloodlines. He remembered the details from reading Pure-bloods: A History, during his second year at Hogwarts—it stated that the Potter family emerged when a Black by the name of Artemis turned her allegiance towards the Light, later marrying a nameless wizard who went by 'Potter.'

While the Potters were considered to be a mostly 'Light' bloodline, they still held tightly onto the belief of blood purity. It goes without saying that Charlus and Dorea Potter were enraged by the news of their only son's secret bonding with a Muggleborn, effectively getting himself disinherited and blasted off the family tree tapestry.

The never-ending pressure against his skull grew once more, but he ignored it.

The House of Potter was infamous for their unmatched intelligence—often siring intellectual prodigies; something, this clod, apparently lacked.

"I have my sources." He lied. "They were quite appalled by his rather..._unbecoming_ disposition."

James snarled, coming up close enough that their noses were nearly touching. "Why is it any of your business, Malfoy? When has the well-being of others but yourself ever interested you, much less some nameless squib?"

"Funny. My sources were wholly under the impression that the child was magical." He smirked, remembering his shock at the discovery of the boy's unconventional talent. "My regards to you. It would appear there is another Animagus in the family."

His smirk grew when shock made home on nearly all but the young-ones faces. Obviously the Potter boy and the Weasley children were not yet old enough to understand, but the look on James and Molly's face more than made up for it. His Draco could only stare incredulously at him, in which he simply inclined his head in response. Choking sounds escaped the boy when he realized his father wasn't lying.

His eyes returned to the stunned Potter. Something snapped in the man's eyes who in turn began cackling cruelly. The pure-blood stopped abruptly and glared hatefully at Lucius. "What rubbish are you spewing now, Lucius? Even if Harry were able to perform magic, an Animagus transformation just isn't within the realm of possibility for even the strongest of wizards, much less an eleven-year old child who barely knows the meaning of magic. I'm beginning to think you've gone senile early, old boy."

James was put off by the Cheshire-like smirk that spread across Lucius'ss pale face but quickly pulled himself together and glared hard at the Malfoy. "Harry is a squib." he repeated in determination.

Lucius only sidestepped him and made his way towards the portal leading to Hogwarts Express, Draco following behind without a word. "We shall see."

**TBC...Please Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you very much for the reviews, they mean a lot!:**

**Jenna; brighteyes343; kazu; Valinda Blade; anon; Mi55-b3cca; BloodRavenMaiden**

_September 20, 1991 - Godric's Hollow_**  
**

Peeking a look around the wall next to the staircase, Harry watched longingly as his Papa conversed with a man that often visited them. The handsome wizard reminded him of a dog with his bark-like laughter that reverberated throughout the whole house, and it left him wondering...what it would be like to laugh along with him.

His Papa said that no one would want to be near him because he was shameful; disgusting. But that didn't mean he couldn't take a look, right?

"You old sod, when were you going to tell me?" the man said, his eyes shining with mirth.

James tried to look casual while sitting back against the sofa cushions. "I haven't got the slightest clue as to what you're talking about." he said nonchalantly, hiding his smile behind his cup of tea.

"Don't be a daft, Prongs, you know what I'm talking about!"

Placing his mug atop the coffee table, James allowed the giddy sensation he had been feeling all week shine through. Harry felt his heart skip a beat, wishing that his Papa would look at him that way. "It's just brilliant, isn't it Sirius? To become the youngest Gryffindor Seeker in years after only a couple of weeks at Hogwarts. Just brilliant."

Harry closed his eyes and smiled when Sirius let out another bark of laughter. The raven-haired man walked over to his Papa and gave him a hard slap on the back before putting a robed arm around his neck. "Of course it's bloody brilliant! Can't say I'm too surprised though, he is my godson after all."

James'ss lips curled into a smirk as he struggled to push the laughing man off him. "Don't be ridiculous, Padfoot. Evan is my son, and therefore–

Hazel eyes hardened when they caught sight of small, pale fingers peeking from the entrance to the living room. He dug his own digits into Sirius's arm, his entire body gone rigid. Sirius frowned at the nearly palpable change in atmosphere. His eyes trailed from the hand gripping onto him tightly to the spot James was glaring at so frigidly.

Sirius'ss frown deepened when he glimpsed a curl of black hair that snapped away quickly. He let out a feral growl, jumped up with his wand out, and chased after the 'intruder.'

"Padfoot, don't–"

The long-haired man rounded the corner in a swish of purple robes, a curse already on the tip of his tongue, when he came to a freezing halt in front of a tiny bundle. The form was doubled over into a low bow on the floor, its small body shaking visibly. Seemingly frail arms were covering its head in attempt to block out any blow that was sure to come.

Sirius blinked and brought his wand down slowly, as if in a trance, before lowering himself a bit to gently take a hold of one of the trembling form's arms. The shaking stilled and the child allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, albeit reluctantly. Judging from the clothing, despite their nearly indistinguishable state, the older man came to the conclusion that the child was in fact a boy. Quite the feminine boy, but still a boy nonetheless, he mused.

"Who are you, little one?" Sirius carefully placed a calloused finger beneath the boy's delicate chin and softly pushed so their eyes would meet. His breath seized when hesitant green eyes met his, peering at him through thick, ebony lashes. Tendrils of ink-black, wavy curls much like his own framed the boy's doll-like face. Those stunning eyes were no longer looking at him in apprehension but in deep-set curiosity. His head was slightly tilted as he assessed the older man, searching and probing.

Sirius knew his mouth was moving in silent words that could not escape. There was something very strange and alluring about this boy, something that called out to him; something that left him utterly speechless. Perhaps it was that expression of desperate longing that now overtook the boy's features, or the way the child was leaning closer to him, as if searching for a touch he had never been permitted.

Just as he felt himself taking a step forward, the mysterious boy's face became guilt-stricken, his eyes steady on something over the older man's robed shoulder. "Harry." James'ss voice pierced the air behind him. Harry let out a loud whimper before shuffling out the back door, nearly falling down as he knocked himself against the narrow hallway wall in his pursuit of escape.

Sirius made a movement to follow him, but James'ss hand shot out and roughed him back by his collar. "Who was that." he breathed, unconsciously fighting against his long-time friend's hold.

"No one." James asserted in a grave tone.

"What are you saying Prongs, the boy–he–the boy was _beautiful_." Sirius continued to claw and push in attempts to free himself from the slightly taller and stronger of the two.

James'ss grip on Sirius tightened, bringing up his other hand to take the bordering hysterical man's shoulder. "Sirius, stop it."

"You said 'Harry.' Is that his name? _Harry._" The Black Heir was now fighting back fiercely as animalistic noises ripped from his mouth, his eyes becoming glazed.

"Sirius, _stop_!"

"_**No**_." Sirius snarled. "Harry needs me, he's _calling_ me."

"Merlin, Sirius." James scowled and pulled his friend flush against his chest. He grabbed his wand from the holster strapped to his forearm and held it to Sirius's temple. He hated doing this, he really did, but it was for the dog Animagus's own good. This obsession he was consumed by each and every time he accidentally met the squib was disturbing. James didn't understand it and because of that, he chose to eliminate it the only way he knew how.

"_Obliviate._"

* * *

Dumbledore watched with all-knowing and twinkling eyes as the students of Hogwarts ate their breakfasts and chattered without a care in the world. Just the way that he thought it should be. They were just children; they had no business worrying about the eventuality of things that were meant for the future.

He strayed for a moment on that familiar mop of dark hair and let a fond expression soften his aged features. The boy's hair was marginally neater than his father's, or his brother's, his eyes wavered when he thought about the boy, but it still held a bit of that signature 'Potter Nest.'

Lily often complained that no matter what she tried on her beloved, nothing would hold his hair down. Albus snickered softly when he remembered the day of Lily and James'ss bonding. It was quite the amusing sight to see at least a dozen Hairwitches take turns casting their best, only for it to backfire a few seconds later. They finally came to the begrudging conclusion that no one was a match for the 'Mess of Potter,' but at least they went home knowing they fought a good fight.

He gave a soft sigh. Poor Lily. Such a firecracker the girl had been. It came as a sudden surprise to all when the Muggleborn's body gave out during labor. The strain of having two babies was much too much, nearly taking Little Harry to the afterlife with her. The child had been a fragile and sickly baby since birth, but...

The Headmaster closed his pale blue eyes in attempt to forget that night.

He had done the right thing; he had taken the proper precautions and now, everything was going the way it should. He may have sacrificed a child, but what was the life of one versus that of the entire Wizarding world?

If anything, the child should be happier now that he does not need to worry about the trials and tribulations that come with being a wizard. Especially if he had become _that_ category of wizard.

Dumbledore was knocked out of his internal thoughts when the Great Hall quieted down into hurried whispers. Half of its attendants were looking at him with eyes that called for answers, the remainder, for whatever reason, staring at Evan Potter. The boy who's very presence demanded attention, seemed to want nothing more than to disappear at that very moment. Instead of meeting the accusing and questioning glares of others, he looked to Dumbledore for help.

The contact was broken when he felt a looming shadow fall over him. Minerva stared down disbelievingly at him, a copy of the Daily Prophet held loosely in her hand. "Albus, what is the meaning of this?" By now all the occupants in the hall, including the professors, had turned their eyes towards him; all was silent. He took the printed parchment from her offering grip and began reading, fearing that he already knew exactly what it was about.

**HEADLINES:**

_**Daily Prophet**_

_October 25, 1991_

_NOT ONE BOY-WHO-LIVED, BUT TWO?_

"_**He looked terribly malnourished; **_

_**I had believed him to be 6 years old. He is 11."**_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_It has been brought to our very eager attention by a notable source that James Charlus Potter, the disinherited Heir to the House of Potter and father of the Boy-Who-Lived; Evan James Potter, has been withholding another child in an attempt to keep him hidden from the public._

_"Harry, is his name." said Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, Head to the House of Malfoy and a shoo-in for Minister of Magic. "I was utterly impressed by his rather astounding magical talent."_

_The alleged boy, assumed to be named Harry Potter, also appeared to have been neglected to the point of disregard for proper clothing, attention, and even nutrition._

_"It was quite pitiful, really." said Malfoy while shaking his head disapprovingly. "The boy was wearing filthy Muggle-clothing that resembled rags. He looked terribly malnourished; In fact, I had believed him to be 6 years old. He is 11."_

_But then we ask ourselves, 'why?' Why is this child being forgotten by both his only parent, his mother having passed away during her difficult labor, and the rest of the Wizarding world?_

_"Potter is under the incongruous belief that his son is a squib." snorted Malfoy, whose 11 year-old son, Draco Lucius Malfoy, began attending his first year at Hogwarts School of Withcraft and Wizardry along with the Boy-Who-Lived this September. "That child is no more a squib than I am."_

_As proof of this claim, a quote from James Potter himself:_

_"Harry is nothing but a worthless squib." Potter had exclaimed in a heated dispute with the Malfoy Head early last month._

_This brings us to our next crucial question; "Are all squibs, and supposed squibs like Harry, being mistreated for their inability to perform magic? And why has no one, namely Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic themselves done anything to alleviate the problem?_

_"We are now working on the case." stated the current Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. "If this Mr. Harry Potter does in fact exist and is identified as magical, he will be sent to any school of his choosing, including, but not limited to; Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, Durmstrang Institute, and of course Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."_

_Declarations of child neglect are also being taken into account. For the time being, Harry Potter, when found, will be seized from James Potter's home in Godric's Hollow and placed in foster care for an unspecified amount of time in which the case will be investigated further._

_Credit to Malfoy's influence, several well known pure-blooded families, including Malfoy himself, have put in their names to host the wholly enigmatic Harry Potter._

_"Harry Potter, if you do exist," commented Minister Fudge with determination in his eyes, "I, and the rest of the Wizarding community, will do everything in our power to bring you justice."_

_Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, and father of the theoretical Harry Potter, James Potter, have yet to make a comment._

Dumbledore sighed in defeat, ran his hand along the length of his beard; feeling every bit of his 150-something years, before vanishing the newspaper with a flick of his wrist.

**TBC...Please Review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you very much for the reviews, they mean a lot!:**

**Broena; Mi55-b3cca; Carpe Noctem1; Evening12; Jenna; Chanson des Ombres; Tristan-Shadows; AcadianProud; itachisgurl93; Egwene Llewelyn; LostInYourThoughts; MDarKspIrIt; angelmuziq**

_September 22, 1991 - Godric's Hollow_

Once again, Lucius found himself traveling down that old and dark paved road leading to the humble cottage resting uphill. This time; however, the late morning sun cast its warm rays of light on his silvery feathers in sparkling flashes as he flew beneath the calming shade of abundant and passing trees.

This particular morning was quiet and soothing with its pleasant echo of chirping birds and buzzing bush-crickets. And if it wasn't for the pounding of the adamant headache screaming in his ears—he might have actually taken a moment to enjoy it.

But no, the insufferable thing had refused to leave him in peace, only growing stronger in its perfect crescendo of pain as the days went by. Potions were ineffective, alcohol was a waste—so what was he left with?

It had occurred to him two nights prior that he might have been approaching it the wrong way; instead of searching for ways to lessen the pain, why not find its cause to get rid of it permanently? He had called for his personal healer, but the balding wizard could find no offending abnormalities to write home about, in fact, _he could find none at all_, he thought haughtily.

So what could be the source of his unfit suffering? He had retraced his footfalls to when the vexation first arose, and consequently found nothing but darker than black hair and emerald eyes.

But of course, it had been the boy. His mind had been trying to tell him that he should not brush the brother of the detestable Boy-Who-Lived aside, but turn around and take another look. He was a curious individual by blood, as he suspected his Draco to be as well, and to not gratify that curiosity would be unnatural.

Thus, he was forced to satiate it.

And now, nearing that same hut-barely-a-house, he noticed a hunched over figure with its back facing him. Puzzled at the unmoving form sitting off to the side of the cottage, he swooped down onto the same yew tree from that night seemingly long ago and settled himself gracefully on a high branch. He watched warily from above for a bit, but the boy did not move an inch from his spot on the trimmed grass.

Several minutes passed by and still naught. Becoming irritated, he threw caution to the wind and nearly landed on the little twit but a last minute change of mind descended him onto the lawn next to the boy instead. He peered up cautiously from his place and watched as a smile spread across the young wizard's face, his eyes resting closed on his sunken cheeks.

"Pretty Man." he stated, not turning to look at the perplexed Animagus.

Lucius watched, fascinated, as the boy finally opened his eyes and brought a hand up, a blade of grass snapping from its earthy confines and following the invisible trail. As it did so, it became crystallized and with an opening gesture from its creator's hand, the crystal blade grew and unraveled into a sparkling rose.

Even in this state, the Malfoy Head could feel his beak drop open in sheer shock.

Levitation. Transfiguration. _Intentional._ _**Wandless.**_

Lucius found himself needing to resist the instinctive reaction to fly away from potential danger like before and instead, stared with fixed eyes as the small wizard plucked the shimmering flower from midair. His eyes followed the movement of pale hands and was caught off guard when the boy turned to him jovially, offering the newly formed crystal.

"For Pretty Man." he whispered with that same excited smile reminiscent of their last meeting, though it seemed more subdued and weak; the boy's eyes half-mast and trying their best to fight off the exhaustion.

Lucius's eyes narrowed, but took a few dubious steps closer anyway. He was rewarded with a happy sigh from the boy, who gently lowered the flower to the grass so as to allow easier access. The older wizard paused when the distinct perfume-like smell of roses wafted around him. Intrigued, he brought his beak closer to the crystal flower, completely being encircled by the rich scent that emanated from it.

'How delightful.' he thought, looking to the pleased boy from beneath his feathered lashes appraisingly.

It was during that calming moment the two shared in relaxing quietness that the Animagus realized his headache was no more. He felt gratified at the fact he had been right in his assumption that his thirst for knowledge was what was causing the problem in the first place. Deep down; however, the part of him that was purely primal, the part he himself refused to acknowledge, grunted in disagreement.

Suddenly feeling the boy tense, Lucius looked up from his thoughts, only to be shielded by the larger body of the small wizard, the crystal rose dissolving into the unimpressive blade of grass it was born as.

"P-Papa." the boy stuttered, obviously trying his best to look as inconspicuous as possible. Lucius would have snorted at his blatant attempts, but listened in on the interaction nonetheless.

James had his arms crossed, his mouth pulled tightly into a frown. "Boy—who were you talking to?"

The raven-haired child looked anywhere but his father before finally deciding his lap was the most interesting thing in the world. His very dainty fingers played with the ripped holes of his shorts, picking and pulling at the stray pieces of thread.

"Harry..." his father's voice was low and threatening.

Harry remained quiet, continuing his now nervous ministrations with the wreck of his bottoms.

The Malfoy Head jumped back with open wings when James angrily grabbed a hold of Harry's curls and pulled him to his feet. The boy let out a whimper, his trembling hands snaking up to grip onto the offending appendage. Harry tugged in hopes of freeing himself, but that only seemed to infuriate the older man more. He grabbed his son's face with his free hand and forced the boy to look at him, his finger's digging into the fragile jaws.

"Look at me when I talk to you, nasty little squib!" the man snarled viciously.

Silent tears of pain were streaming down pale, sunken cheeks, but Harry stood rooted, his mouth clamped tightly together.

It was then that Lucius realized Harry, as they had so 'eloquently' named him, was doing all this; taking the pain of being manhandled by his own father, his blood, for _him._ It was all that had kept the Animagus from simply flying away from the appalling display. It was what made him react so very unlike himself.

James released Harry and gave out a pained hiss when something sharp flew into his eye. Harry fell back with a 'thump' and watched in horror as his friend dug its claws into his Papa's closed lid. The thin spikes were much too small to do any real damage, but the young wizard was afraid of what might happen if his father got a hold of the tiny bird.

With one final tired and tortured look, Harry wished and wished as hard as he could for something that would distract his Papa long enough for the little canary to escape without harm. He bit his lip, concentrating, until he could feel himself rip the supple skin of his reddened mouth—his eyes not once blinking or leaving his father's angry form.

And there it was, that soft crackle of ignition and the subtle plumes of smoke coming from the bottom hem of James's slacks.

A relieved, drained breath gurgled from Harry's throat before he shook his head to throw off the waves of exhaustion. His half-lidded eyes took on an expression of determination, then changing into one of what he hoped looked like horror.

"P-Papa!" he squeaked, adding a notch of trembling worry to his voice.

When James and Lucius both looked down, they saw Harry's startling green eyes wide with terror, a shaking finger pointing below the elder Potter. James's eyebrows furrowed in confusion before he looked down and gave a start, cursing profusely. "What in Merlin's name—"

Harry relaxed tiredly and gave his new and only friend a soft smile, inclining his head ever so slightly.

The Animagus flew in place for a few moments in his hesitation to leave like the child was practically begging him to with those weary eyes of his. It aggravated him more than anything that he had gone out of his way in lending a very exceptional hand, only to have the pathetic illusion of a boy bail him out in the end.

Lucius never attempted anything but flying in his Animagus form, as well as the occasional spying, so it might have come out as awkward when he responded with a short trill that promised his return. Harry seemed to understand, because he returned his limited form of communication with a heavy sigh sounding suspiciously like relief.

* * *

A few weeks flashed by in that same rhythmic routine of Lucius visiting the boy, each time hungrier for the knowledge of what else Harry may be hiding...and how it could be of use to him.

He was beyond captivated by the raw power the young wizard of only eleven possessed. It was seductive in its pull, healing at its touch and ruthless in its intent. Had it not been for his tight control over the knocking beast within, he would have already succumbed to it; mindlessly and completely.

In those far few days in which he spent with the unassuming boy, he had discovered that any living being, including plants, who came close enough to the general vicinity of Harry would be subsequently healed almost instantaneously. The magic that emitted from him was a constant current, never seizing, but endlessly flowing outwards in the accompaniment of healing properties; unlike most wizards who simply illustrated a halo of magic around their bodies. Lucius supposed that had been what took place during his first visit, and while he hadn't paid much thought to it the first time—it certainly made more sense now, though he hated to admit that the miraculous healing hadn't been of his own doing. Lucius had never heard of such a thing as a presence that could cure, but then again, he had never heard of anyone like _Harry_.

Unfortunately, those healing benefits didn't seem to extend to Harry. The child still continued to deteriorate by the day. His body hunched further, his smiles became laced in somber and his eyes drooped to nearly closing. Judging by the sunken cheeks and sharp collar bones that peaked from beneath the threadbare, over-sized jumper—he suspected extended starvation was the cause.

If Lucius was to exact the plans that had been formulating in his mind in recent days, he needed the boy to be alive and glowing in health.

So, he acted like the good spy he was and watched for an opportune moment in which he could visit Harry undisturbed, without the wretched Potter around to pop in at any moment. That's when October 21st, an early first Quidditch game of the year, came with excellent timing. After hearing that Potter's little spawn made Seeker, he was sure the man would be racing out to watch his mongrel play.

Glaring from his now usual spot and according to him, 'his tree', he followed James's figure with mercury eyes when the wizard stumbled excitedly out the front door and quickly Disapparated with a resounding crack.

Triumphantly, the Animagus set out to find Harry. Today was the day he would present himself as Lucius Malfoy for the first time and gain the boy's trust fully—he needed Harry to depend on him absolutely and exclusively if he wanted his long-term plan to work.

It will work, of course. After all, he was the pitiful child's only light in this world of oh, so dreary darkness. He would feed and return the affection the boy was so desperately starved of. Would dress him and nourish him—make him into someone of high society, someone who others looked at in envy, in _fear_. Refined, poised, beautiful, and _powerful. _ More power than the world had ever seen.

And then, he would be woven so deeply in the web of Harry's mind and soul, the child would not think twice about doing whatever Lucius asked. Together, they will rip the world to shreds.

Lucius continued his search for that familiar pumping of magic as he rounded the side of the house into a more shaded and vegetated area. He glided blissfully in the air, feeling the headache that would latch onto him whenever he left melt away completely.

He presumed that the wards surrounding the house only reached as far as the front porch, seeing as he was able to fly around without difficulty. He expected the same could be said for his true form.

The Animagus slid close to the grass, ready to transform, when he was suddenly thrown aside by an invisible force just as something long whizzed by him. He stopped and looked over to see a medium-sized snake slithering to a turn, ready to lunge at _him_. The bloody thing was trying to make him its lunch!

Lucius bristled in anger. How dare that putrid, overgrow worm! 'I'll show you; ruddy, little–'

He froze when a familiar, seductive hissing filled the air around him. Every other sound seemed to lower to a muteness, only the hypnotic song of serpentine whispers echoed throughout the atmosphere.

Lucius turned, believing unreasonably that he was going to be met with the translucent pallor of his Lord, only to have the bolt of shock strike him still. Emerald eyes were blazing a poison green glow as they glared viciously at the coiling snake in front of him. Lips moved and pursed while shoulders shook in fury. Magic heavy and dense, almost to the point of suffocating, cracked in thousands of whips around the tiny form of Harry, snapping into curved arrows ready to be let loose in a storm of magic.

He had never seen a more beautiful sight.

**TBC...Please Review!**


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